oblivion
by gardevoir
Summary: Memory's always been such a fickle thing.
1. The Solution of Shanoa

**Part One:** _Shanoa's perspective_.

* * *

"Tomorrow, I'll become the bearer."

They both knew that this day was coming. It had weighed heavily on their minds for the past few weeks. It went on unmentioned, but nothing had to be said to know that the other was thinking about the exact same thing.

"You don't have to do this, Albus. What if you aren't ready? Why don't you let me do it?"

"Barlowe already promised that I would become Dominus. I can't go back now." He shook his head. "I'm doing this for you, you know."

Shanoa frowned, reaching out and placing her hand on his chest, staring into his eyes. "You don't have to do this, Albus," she repeated, eyes begging him not to go through with it.

"It's either me or you and I don't want to lose you, Shanoa." He sighed heavily, knowing she wouldn't let this go so easily.

"And you think having me lose you is any easier?"

"One of us has to live. And it should be you."

"But you may not be ready for it. You can't absorb glyphs very well and it might be too taxing, then—"

"Don't patronize me, Shanoa. You should know better than that." He grabbed her wrist and gently handed it back to her, shaking his head. He offered her a sympathetic smile before turning away, starting to walk off.

She watched him take a few steps before staring down at her boots, her hands clenched fists at her sides. "There's no changing your mind, is there?" she murmured, eyes now shut tight.

Though her voice had quieted when she spoke again, he was still able to hear her, causing him to stop in his tracks. "You should know the answer to that better than anyone else." A forced chortle escaped his throat before he peered slightly over his shoulder at her. "I'm sorry, Shanoa."

She merely clenched her jaw and winced away fro him, listening as the echo of his footsteps faded into silence.

-/-

"Come in." Albus looked up from the book he was reading, preparing himself for anything that might happen tomorrow. "Shanoa, if you're here to discourage me again, you're wasting your time."

She shook her head, slipping into the room and closing the door behind her before she leaned against it. She opened her mouth to say more, but quickly decided against it. She didn't want him in a foul mood tonight.

He would find out in the morning.

"No, I just... wanted to see you one last time before the ritual. I can't be in the room once it starts, after all. We'll have some time to talk in the morning, but you can't lollygag."

She pushed off the door and walked up to his bed, sitting down beside him. "So for the rest of tonight, let me convey my gratitude to you, in return for all that you've done for me all these years."

Rather than verbally answering the questions that were clear on his face, she leaned over and closed the book in his hands, tossing it to the floor.

Neither paid any attention to the resulting thump it made, too preoccupied with their lips meeting, her hand on his cheek.

Once she splayed her other hand on his chest and began pushing him down gently, it was easy to decipher what her intentions were.

"Wait, Shanoa. What are you doing?" he asked anyway, in quite a bit of shock, the surprise impairing his ability to process what was happening. He stared up at her, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I told you, I'm showing you my gratitude. This is the only way I can do it in this short time we have left together." She motioned for him to fix himself properly on the bed, straddling his waist once he was.

"But Ecclesia! We aren't supposed to—!"

She silenced him quickly. Pulling away from his lips, she murmured, "What the church doesn't know won't hurt them. I want to express my feelings to you in a way you'll understand. Just let me have this moment with you, if only for a short while."

Unfortunately for him, he really wasn't in a position to decline.

Hear his reluctantly relenting sigh, she continued, mouths meeting once again.

The hand that was on his cheek joined the one that was once again on his chest. They felt for the end of his night shirt, pulling it up a bit once she'd grabbed hold of the hem. Her fingers traced along his skin, already familiar with the firm muscle, but the touch of his bare skin new and foreign to her. She could feel him shiver a bit underneath her, her own skin a bit cooler than his.

Their embrace broke so that she could pull off his shirt, staring down at the torso that had been revealed to her. As she stared she memorized every detail, her eyes trailing upward in their studying, gazing at his face. Their eyes met and she could tell he was more than nervous about all of this.

It would be a lie if she said she wasn't feeling even the slightest bit of anxiety.

She leaned down once again as he put his hands on her hips, attempting something different with their kiss. Her tongue ventured out, darting across his lower lip. When he gave no response, she repeated the action.

Grunting quietly with her irritation, she nipped his lower lip roughly, which caused his lips to part with a gasp.

She took that moment of opportunity to slide her tongue into his mouth.

Shanoa was very much aware of Albus' uncertainty, placing her hands on either side of his face to hold him in place. Breaking it after a few moments, she put her forehead to his, caressing his cheek. "Just let me lead, okay? Remember, this is my gratitude to you."

His eyes fell closed and he nodded.

As she began again, some of the tension between them dissipated, Albus finding that there was some comfort in letting someone else be in charge for a change.

Their kiss lasted longer this time, their tongues running alongside each others', a soft, throaty groan escaping here or there.

Her hands began to travel again, skimming over his chest and abdomen to the hem of his night pants. Her thumbs hooked onto the fabric, hooking onto the garment underneath as well, gradually pulling them down to get both items off in one fell swoop.

As his pants slid down, so did she. He watched her sink lower, becoming a bit concerned with and questioning what she planned to do.

He got his answer when he felt her tongue run along his skin from the base to the tip, her hand wrapping around him after.

His hips bucked and he groaned, unconsciously closing his eyes tightly. "You... you know that... the church disapproves... of actions such as _these_!" His voice rose slightly in pitch when she became a bit more aggressive in her actions.

"I didn't realize I particularly cared about how the church felt at this moment in time," she replied when she pulled away for a moment.

Her eyes glinted with amusement when she heard his rapid mumblings, knowing he was trying not to concede defeat to the pleasure he was feeling.

He lost anyway.

Swallowing with the slightest bit of a smile, she slowly crawled back up his body, straddling his waist again.

His breathing had become heavy, but it ceased temporarily when she pulled off her nightgown.

It wasn't until she looked away out of slight embarrassment that he realized he was unabashedly staring at her figure. He glanced of to the side, grunting an apology. She placed a hand on his cheek again, turning his head gently, the corners of her lips curling upward.

"It's okay, you know. I'd be more worried if you didn't." He was tentative about it, but he gazed upon her body again, drinking in the sight.

A hand of his reached out to touch her, but it quickly retracted. Before it could fall back to his side, she grabbed his wrist, placing his hand over her heart. She closed her eyes for a few moments, opening them slowly to smirk down at him.

She briefly wondered if his heart was beating as fast as hers was. "It's okay, Albus. Really." With her approval, both of his hands began gracing along her form, committing to memory the dips and rises that were composed of her. She shivered above him, her eyes closing once more to enhance her sense of touch, finding an odd bit of pleasure in being caressed by rough, calloused hands.

There was a pause in all movement for a time, the two staring at each other, studying, observing. It was a comfortable lull, emotions passing between them without the need for trivial words.

And rather than being spoken, some things were better communicated with unblinking eyes, held breaths, and the simple feel of another's skin against your own.

Breaking this lull, Shanoa put her hands to her hips, ridding herself of the last piece of clothing between them.

As she held him in place, she took a deep breath, the nervousness she felt before becoming a bit overwhelming.

Before she could let her anxiety get the best of her, she gradually lowered herself onto him, biting down hard on her lower lip. He let out a ragged breath in response.

Both remained still for some time, unknowingly doing so for the same reason: to give her some time to adjust.

Cautiously, languidly, she began rocking her hips, her breathing more shallow and unsteady. As the pace of her movements naturally began to increase, she felt his hands find her hips again, glancing down to see him silently pleading to also indulge in the lust they shared.

Her own hands were splayed on his abdomen, though they soon curled into fists, her nails momentarily dragging on his skin. He hissed, hips lifting and causing a moan to escape her lips.

More followed after as they moved in rhythm, ardors, desires, and repressed feelings expressed through their movements.

Emotion was spoken fluently through simple, primal, carnal contact. She was able to express her gratitude in a way he understood.

They shared kisses, exchanged breaths, reiterated names.

Tossing her head back with a cry of his name, she climaxed first.

He came soon after she did, holding her hips down tightly as he groaned her name.

Struggling to get air back into her lungs, she lied down on top of him, curling up on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, closing his eyes. Keeping his hold on her, he turned onto his side so that she was now lying beside him instead. Just as he started to pull out of her, she made a noise of displeasure, hooking her leg around his hip and pushing him back in, moving him closer toward her. Their bodies were flush against each others', able to feel the other's quickened heartbeat.

"That was rather blasphemous," he commented, looking down at her. She stared back up at him, sighing. "Everything I did was sacrilegious, Albus. The very facet that this was done out of wedlock says all that needs to be said. But as I mentioned before, I don't particularly care. I am happy to be here, lying with you, and that's all that truly matters. I will face my consequences for this latr, but for now, hush and let us savor the moment."

He chuckled lightly and figured that that would be the best course of action to take. The sheet was pulled over them and soon enough, sleep took them.

-/-

The first thing he promptly noticed after waking up was that she had left.

Gone.

Sitting up, he found no traces of her stay, no reminders of what occurred the night before. It was almost as if it never truly happened. And he very nearly entertained the thought.

But the bloodstain on his sheet swiftly smoldered all further doubts.


	2. The Adjudication of Albus

_**Part Two: **Albus' perspective._

* * *

He paced in the cell from wall to wall, trying to comprehend how things could have gone so wrong so fast.

It had been a week since Shanoa had lost her memory because of his attack.

When he had tried to get her to listen to him, about their history and the moments they had shared, she ignored every word, throwing him into the cell without the bat of an eyelash or even a second thought.

"Barlowe told me that you're the man that caused my memory loss in the first place," she had spat. Unfortunately for him, there was no denying that. "Do you honestly think that I'd believe a word you say?" The laugh she had barked was harsh, holding not a trace of humor.

There had to be some way of making her remember. He could not let her continue forgetting the life she lived.

Especially not after everything they had gone through together.

He stopped and glanced through the barred window of the cell, seeing the moon overhead, illuminating his cell. It was on nights such as these that he liked to recall the—

He turned around when he heard the creaking of metal, seeing the cell door swinging open.

And there she stood.

"Barlowe advised that I make quick work of you so that you won't meddle again."

She took a step toward him and he backed way.

If he did not come up with a solution now, this would be the end of everything

And he would not be able to save her from Barlowe's set-up.

"W-wait! Shanoa, please, listen to me." He put his hands out in front of him, breathing a sigh of relief when she actually bothered to pause. "You don't remember anything at all? Not even me? Not one thing about yourself?"

"Not a single thing, thanks to you."

He winced a bit at the reply, but he would not let that deter him.

"There has to be something you remember." He took a step forward and she tensed, an intimidating look upon her face. "Did you even forget… that night?"

She stared at him strangely then, having not a clue about what he was referencing.

He could see she was quite skeptical and her tension did not let up.

This was going to be much harder than he had previously thought…

"He warned me you would speak nonsense about how we were previously acquaintances."

"Because we were."

She shook her head. "I believe I've dallied long enough. No more of this nonsensical chatter."

Reacting quickly, while her guard was lowered enough, he ran toward her before dropping and sliding, his foot out to trip her. When she fell, he quickly straddled her waist, pinning her arms down to her sides.

"Don't. Please, Shanoa, let me help you remember."

She could find no malicious intent in his eyes; all she saw was pain and silent pleas.

"A… alright."

Hesitating for a moment, he let go of her, letting her slide out from under him. They sat facing each other, studying the other carefully.

"There has to be something you remember. There has to be." He reached out and the pads of his fingers just barely brushed her cheek before she flinched and leaned away, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. He sighed with some defeat, running a hand through his hair.

"I would have hoped you would at least remember that night, of all things. It was one of our last moments together…"

When he looked back up, he saw her questioning stare, tilting her head slightly. "You keep talking about one night in particular. Exactly what occurred on that night?"

He froze for a moment before grunting and rubbing the back of his neck. "You… we…" It was rather embarrassing to say it aloud… and what were the chances that she would actually believe him if he told her?

He saw her frown slightly at his lack of a response. "Well, I suppose if you just tell me, I most likely won't remember it. If you are truly serious about wanting to recover my memories, why don't we just reenact it instead?"

He very nearly choked on air. "T-that… may not be the best idea…," he replied slowly.

"Whatever we did could not have possibly been that bad. Come now."

He muttered to himself, "You'd be surprised…," under his breath, cursing himself mentally for getting himself into this situation.

But it was better than dying…. he hoped.

"W-well, first off, you'll need to come closer." He witnessed her looking at him oddly, but she complied nonetheless. "Closer than that." When she was right in front of him, touching his knee with her own, he sighed heavily and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his lap.

"W-what is this! ? What are you doing! ?" She struggled in his hold and he held her by her upper arms, shaking her a bit so that she could stop. When she did, he looked at her intently, to the point where she shrank away slightly from his gaze.

"You asked me to reenact what happened that night. And so I am. But I'll need your cooperation. I admit this is a bit… strange, but I need you to trust me."

The leering look returned to her face.

"Please."

"I suppose I'll relent… but if you try to hurt me or escape, I will not hesitate to act."

He nodded before swallowing nervously. Carefully, he placed his hands to the sides of her breastplate, untying it and pulling it off of her.

When she began to protest, he put his hand up to silence her, reaching behind himself to untie his own from the back.

He then grabbed her arm, each one at time, pulling off her armsleeves. Seeing her tattoos, he traced them with his fingers, smiling solemnly. He had never missed the sight of them more than he had now. Languidly sliding his hands down her arms, he grabbed hold of her wrists and laid her hands on his chest.

"What do you want me to—"

"Unbutton it."

She blushed violently and he took notice. It was slightly reassuring to know that he was not the only one that was nervous.

With tentative, slow hands, she undid the buttons one by one, biting her lower lip. He observed carefully, noticing that she had not looked up, not even for one cursory glance, appearing rather concentrated.

Once his shirt was loose, she turned her head away. Because of this, he knew she would not be willing to do much more than that.

He needed to be the assertive one this time.

… Easier said than done.

With a stressed exhale, he shrugged off the shirt. Adjusting her in his lap so that her back was against his chest, he murmured, "Take off your boots," after setting his chin on her shoulder, having already kicked his own shoes off.

As she was pulling them off, he put his lips to her neck, unable to stop himself from smirking ever so slightly against her skin when she breathed in a bit sharply with her surprise.

In truth, he was just as surprised as she was at his bold action.

While she continued, his hands skimmed up the plane of her back, enticed as he felt her shiver above him. His hands slid over her shoulders, carefully pulling at the lace of her dress that was holding her dress together at her neck, watching as it fell to her waist. He pressed her closer to his chest, indulging in the warmth of her body.

He was fond of this feel. He missed it.

He could hear her breathing becoming shallower as his hands trailed languidly down the sides of her body before gliding down the front of her body. After sweeping her hair over her shoulder, he cupped her breasts as his lips brushed the back of her neck. Soft moans were elicited as his thumbs ghosted over nipples.

Soon, his hand descended again, chuckling quietly when she lifted herself up slightly, helping him pull off the rest of the dress.

With his sly smile against her skin, the same hand slipped into her panties, hearing as she gasped sharply once his finger lightly brushed her nub. The volume of her calls rose as he rubbed her, her eyes closing and tilting her head back against his shoulder. "Albus…," Shanoa breathed, looking up at him with dilated eyes.

Tempted by the sound of her voice, his hand lowered itself a little more, his finger sliding into her slit. After a sharp gasp, she moaned, her hands gripping his arm firmly, nails biting into his skin.

As his hand moved faster, he found that her hips began to rock, breathing heavier as she did.

The control he had over his desire was slowly slipping.

Her grip tightened on his arm and she cried out with a shudder, her eyes widening as the blue grew thinner. He watched as she panted and her eyes slowly fell close, pulling his hand away and licked off his fingers, letting her wind down a bit. Once her breathing had leveled enough, she turned around on his lap without warning or him telling her to, swirling a finger along his chest, venturing lower. "This… is all so new to me… and yet vaguely familiar…" she murmured as she detailed his body. "Is this what happened on the night you were referring to?"

Albus nodded, now holding onto the hope that she would remember after all.

But the sentimental moment soon came to an end when he felt his trousers coming loose, the ties being undone. "It's as though… the thoughts are at the fringes of my memory…"

He felt her curious touch run along his cock and he jerked a bit into her hand, a groan emitted throatily. Her soft fingers were almost painful for him.

She glanced up at him and was visibly startled momentarily by the lust that filled his eyes, showing hunger and need.

"Shanoa…" he breathed, his hands placed on her back, sliding down until his hands cupped her ass, causing her to yelp a bit in astonishment when he pulled her in closer.

When his cock touched the inside of her thigh, his hips bucked a bit involuntarily and she gasped. Already well aware of what he wanted {seeing as she wanted it as well," she rubbed her slit against him, rolling her hips slowly, eyes glinting when he was the one to take in a sharp breath.

Unable to take much more of it, his hands skimmed back up, grabbing her waist and lifting her slightly so that he could lower her onto him. She let out a soft cry while he exhaled raggedly, the pair staying still for a few moments.

Languidly, he began to thrust, placing his lips to her neck and nipping roughly at her skin. She made a noise of pleasure, her own hips matching his pace.

But both soon grew dissatisfied with slow movements.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and had her arms around his neck, leaning in to whisper, "More…," rolling her hips a bit faster to coax him.

Suddenly, his hold on her waist grew more firm as his thrusts became rougher, faster. He heard her breath catch in her throat and he smirked when her moans became louder. He himself filled the silence with his own groans, murmuring her name. When she put her forehead to his shoulder, he lifted her chin, watching her expression, encouraged further by also seeing the pleasure he was giving her. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. A few moments later, he pried her lips apart, his tongue gliding along hers. She was more than receptive of it, sliding her palms over his shoulder to place them on either side of his face.

His want for her growing by the second, he leaned a bit forward, his hands moving up to her back to hold her in place. She held onto his shoulders, parting from their kiss for a moment to catch her breath before their lips met again.

Soon enough, he felt her tighten around him and she tossed her head back with an outcry, shivering as she came. His own release happened soon after hers, moaning her name.

As they calmed, he put his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as he panted.

"So this is all of what happened?"

"More or less. Things were done a bit differently…"

When he reopened his eyes, he could see her lips pursed into a frown. "Maybe that is why nothing has come back to me…"

He offered her a weak, forced smile, putting his hands on either of her cheeks before sliding them forward to comb his fingers through her hair. "Don't stress yourself out about it. You tried. That's all that matters."

She looked at him with concern creasing her face and he know she was aware that he was hiding his disappointment by the fact that her memory hadn't returned.

"Thank you for tonight."

-/-

When she came to the next morning, she found herself in her room, on her bed. She was naked, but the sheets were covering her.

Slowly, holding the sheet to her chest, Shanoa sat up, glancing around her. Her confusing lasted for a few moments until she saw her clothes folded up in a corner of the room. Instantly, she was up on her feet, throwing on her clothes.

As she ran down to the dungeons, she remembered the night before, berating herself for letting her guard down so easily, coaxed by simple worlds, pleasured by light touches—

No.

Now was not the time to think about that.

After arriving at his cell, it was, expectantly, empty. She checked the other cells to be sure, finding nothing and no one. With a ragged sigh, she returned to her room, mumbling curses and hexes upon Albus for using such wily ways to escape. But though she was damning him, there was one main thought she just could not get out of her mind.

If it was _truly_ just about escaping, why did he seem so let down when she told him she could not remember anything? The expression on his face at that moment seemed almost like he was…

Hurt.

And the strangest thing out of it all was the fact that she had woken up in her own bed.

'_What if his words were true? Were we really—no. He is the enemy. Barlowe stated that very clearly. And to let him trick me and get away was very unbecoming of me._'

When she returned to her room, she noticed something she had not caught earlier. There was a note on her desk, folded, with her name written in the center.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and unfolded it.

* * *

**_author's notes_**

FINALLY DONE WITH THIS NEVER LOOKING AT IT AGAIN


End file.
